His cousin Ben let him set up his the next day; but Hal was not more fortunate or more careful when he meddled with other people's things than when he managed his own. He had scarcely played with it an hour before he split it, by driving in the peg too violently. Ben bore this misfortune with good humour.
"Come," said he, "it can't be helped; but give me the string, because that may still be of use for something else."
It happened some time afterwards that a lady who had been intimately acquainted with Hal's mother at Bath, that is to say, who had frequently met her at the card-table during the winter, now arrived at Clifton. She was informed by his mother that Hal was at Mr. Gresham's; and her sons, who were friends of his, came to see him, and invited him to spend the next day with them.
Hal joyfully accepted the invitation. He was always glad to go out to dine, because it gave him something to do, something to think of, or at least something to say. Besides this, he had been educated to think it was a fine thing to visit fine people; and Lady Diana Sweepstakes (for that was the name of his mother's acquaintance) was a very fine lady; and her two sons intended to be very great gentlemen.
He was in a prodigious hurry when these young gentlemen knocked at his uncle's door the next day; but just as he got to the hall door, little Patty called to him from the top of the stairs, and told him that he had dropped his pocket handkerchief.
"Pick it up, then, and bring it to me quick, can't you, child?" cried Hal. "For Lady Di's sons are waiting for me."
Little Patty did not know any thing about Lady Di's sons; but as she was very good-natured, and saw that her cousin Hal was, for some reason or other, in a desperate hurry, she ran down stairs as fast as she possibly could, towards the landing-place, where the handkerchief lay; but, alas! before she reached the handkerchief, she fell rolling down a whole flight of stairs, and when her fall was at last stopped by the landing-place, she did not cry, but she writhed, as if she was in great pain.
"Where are you hurt, my love!" said Mr. Gresham, who came instantly on hearing the noise of some one falling down stairs. "Where are you hurt, my dear?"
"Here, papa," said the little girl, touching her ankle, which she had decently covered with her gown; "I believe I am hurt here, but not much," added she, trying to rise; "only it hurts me when I move."
"I'll carry you; don't move then," said her father; and he took her up in his arms.